Not a Game
by LunaStellaCat
Summary: Frank Longbottom notices something different about his wife. Hope you enjoyed reading this. Any reviews or critiques would be awesome. Let me know what you think.
1. Not a Game

Frank Longbottom kept his head down at work and got buried in paperwork that led him to nowhere. He did this on purpose. Any end could be a proper dead end if a man took care to cover his tracks. Had he done something wrong last Friday afternoon? No, not really. Well, he couldn't remember, and his wife hadn't spoken to him for the entire weekend. So, yes, chances were he'd done something really, really stupid.

Other than messing up, and messing up royally, he could not recall what he had done to earn this silent treatment. He wanted to know why. Frank needn't fix the problem. Well, he did, but Frank would get to this after Alice broke down and said it. At thirteen hundred sharp, Frank marked his spot in his tedious encyclopedic reading material and decided it was high time Alice got to the point.

He cornered her in her cubicle. While he wore wrinkled clothes and looked like hell, she'd bothered with pinning up her blonde hair and pretending like a mandatory sixty-hour work week wasn't killing her after six months. She sat clear across Auror Headquarters, so Frank had plenty of time to pull out of a decision as this would mostly likely land him on the couch.

"What're you doing?" Frank leaned over the cubicle wall.

"Trying to figure out the best way to lie to Rufus Scrimgeour without actually lying to him," said Alice, scratching stuff out with a quill.

Frank laughed quietly, admiring how this woman played the game. Alice always colored within the lines, though she made the picture her own. He scratched his chin. "So, you're aiming to lie without getting caught?"

"Not a lie if you if you don't get caught, is it?" Alice set her messy draft next to two identical documents; Frank guessed one of these was a forgery. Frank edged into the work station and checked out her flawless work. A Copying Charm, the Germinio Charm, didn't always cut it.

"You sound like Mad-Eye," he said softly, resting his hand on her shoulder. As this might actually pass as an actual conversation, he treaded carefully. What good would it be if he covered up something stupid by saying something stupid? After fifteen years of marriage and seventeen years of being with this woman, he'd learned all sorts of things.

Alice concentrated on her final touches and cast a Waterproof Shield on her forged document. The right one. She tested it by pouring a cup of tea over it. Frank, taken aback by this at first, had moved his hand to stop her, but he caught on because Alice always double checked her work and covered her tracks. Frank, a senior Auror, a Major, often forgot this step, and he siphoned the liquid off with a casual flick of his wand.

He separated the fake document from the original one. "That's skill. You're dangerous."

Alice gave him a small smile and slipped the original back into a folder. She tapped it with wand and it disappeared. She stood up, and he stole her swivel chair; Frank kicked away from the desk and spun in circles. He usually made himself home in other peoples' work stations because he rarely stayed at Auror Headquarters. He missed work as a field agent, too.

"Oh, Francis, how you underestimate me," she said, kicking off her flats and exchanging these for some black heels. Apart from his mother, Alice was the only other person allowed to address him by his given name. She pulled open a cupboard and placed her shoes in here. She checked her watch, cursing as she chucked her Styrofoam cup in the wastebasket, and dashed out of the cubicle. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, actually I was gonna to grab a bite." Rolling his eyes, Frank Summoned his sorry brown bag lunch and picked up the pace. When they reached the Annex, the research and training station, Alice placed her wand on the brass scales. They rattled and denied her access. Frank raised his eyebrows. "What's that mean?"

Alice cursed, pacing in a small circle. A few minutes later, the barrier opened, and Mad-Eye stood there glaring at them. Tapping his new prototype wooden prosthetic impatiently, he tapped the face of his own watch. He fixed his beady eyes on Alice.

"What's the difference between thirteen hundred and thirteen hundred, eleven?" The Aurors lived by international time. The Muggles knew this by military time.

"Eleven minutes?" Alice shrugged. She gave no excuse because it did no good, especially with Mad-Eye. She relied of haggling. "I'm a fool? I'll do your reports all week? It's Monday, so this frees your timetable. And by all week, what I really meant was two weeks."

Alice bit her lip, waiting. When Mad-Eye shrugged his shoulders and stepped aside, leaning heavily on the new foot, she smiled nervously.

"So, this never happened? We're good?" Alice knew she toed the line, so she and Frank followed him inside. The invisible barrier to the Annex sealed itself.

"You. Get up here." Mad-Eye shoved her forwards. A candidate, a recruit, held a black box with medals and ornaments. Frank couldn't see the trinkets, yet he'd been through this ritual over and over because he'd climbed through the ranks. He hadn't known Alice was up for promotion.

"Ma'am." The candidate, a first year recruit, bowed to Alice. Alice was the only woman among the ranks in the last seven years, and she stood as an equal to any man.

Alice nodded, standing up straighter. Her arms fell to her sides. Mad-Eye made the pomp and circumstance sound like "blah, blah, blah", and although Frank noticed he cut it short, he wasn't sure anyone else did. This was an officer's moment to shine. The head of the Auror Department, Robards, stood up to do the honors, but Mad-Eye waved him down and added the medals and ribbons to Alice's already impressive collection.

"They ought to do this differently for a female officer," suggested Alice, making the candidate smile.

"Woman, I will stab you with this pin," growled Mad-Eye. Alice shut up. He turned her towards her peers, wrapping up the ribbons ceremony. "Lieutenant Alice Colleen Longbottom."

He let her go. Frank realized why she couldn't get into the Annex. Technically, whenever an officer changed ranks, he or she temporarily held no position. The cool female voice securing the Annex reeled off an officer's rank. Mad-Eye and Alice saluted each other. Careful not to step on anyone's toes, she strode over and saluted Robards, too, for some senior officers got touchy over the tiniest gestures. Frank bet his lunch Robards was one of these people.

Frank dug into his lunch the moment Alice and Mad-Eye followed him outside the Annex and back the other way.

"A Major and a Lieutenant," said Mad-Eye, grimacing. This sometimes passed for a smile.

He clapped a hand on Alice's shoulder and complained about the leg. Without waiting to go through the usual spiel of Mad-Eye saying he didn't need nor want any help, Frank skipped to the end and knelt to fix the problem. As with any new prosthetic, it took time to get used to a new limb, and although Mad-Eye insisted he knew this, he was about as stubborn as they came, and he didn't really listen to the Healers. Months ago, his leg had been cursed off during a pursuit on foot in Glasgow.

"You can't run," said Frank, pointing this out for the umpteenth time. He'd get the actual limb in due time; Mad-Eye needed to pace himself.

"I know that," he said.

"Well, since you know so much, sir, I insist you follow orders if you don't want this thing to get infected again." Frank unstrapped the prosthetic and showed no surprise of the infection underneath. There was blood snd pus in the wound; Mad-Eye hopped over to Frank's desk and collapsed in his chair. "Alice, can you get me the wound kit?"

Alice had dashed out of the heavy doors.

"Never mind, love, I've got it," muttered Frank, a little annoyed with her.

There weren't many people, especially officers, willing to give Mad-Eye Moody a hand because he had a well-deserved reputation of being an ass. He took out his handkerchief and pressed it to Mad-Eye's wound. After gathering his supplies, Frank warned him this might burn. There was no question; this would burn like hell. After Frank stepped away to wash his hands and pulled on some latex gloves, he set down kitchen towel to cover the floor and poured hydrogen peroxide over the infected mess; brown streaks leaked out.

"I'm not your matron," said Frank. He packed the wound with quick fingers and cleared up his mess with a wave of his wand. The wastebasket swallowed it. These meetings were becoming too familiar. Nonetheless, Frank attached the leg and gave Mad-Eye a vial of Ambrosial Antibiotics he kept in his secret stash. "You need to start taking care of yourself."

If Frank had told Mad-Eye to head to St. Mungo to get some more antibiotics, he knew it would fall to deaf ears, so he didn't bother. Unless Mad-Eye took all the dosages, he wouldn't truly clear away the nastiness. As he stepped away to make tea, Frank took it upon himself to harp on this man about his healing habits. He'd lost his appetite and chucked his lunch in the wastebasket.

"Here." He handed Mad-Eye one of the chipped teacups. "You're an idiot."

"I'm a Brigadier, Major, so mind your tone." Mad-Eye, who had received promotions faster than Frank, and was older than him, pulled rank on him. Frank shrugged this off, for Mad-Eye barked a lot. "You're an idiot."

"You're welcome?" Frank raised his eyebrows.

"Well, at least Alice officially comes into her retirement today," said Mad-Eye, sitting back in the chair and sipping his tea. He let go of his anger and relaxed a little. Aurors earned retirement after fifteen years of loyal service. "That ought to make things more comfortable, eh? And the bonus."

"Why?" Frank frowned at him. Alice had always struggled with her diets; she had an off-on relationship with those things, and Frank doubted whether she'd make it through annual physicals this year. They came round in mid-March, and this was mere weeks away. "What's your diet?"

"Oh, she can't do that," said Mad-Eye.

Frank didn't get it. Mad-Eye had insisted Alice Longbottom matched any male officer, yet he protected her at the strangest times. Frank pressed him, "Mad-Eye, this is Alice. We always fly through physicals, and she can take it. Alice is Alice."

"I refer you back to the idiotic statement," said Mad-Eye, passing a gnarled hand over his scarred face. Mad-Eye acted like he waited for something to set in, though Frank felt like he missed a punchline to some joke. "You really don't know?"

Frank tired of the ambiguous answers. "Know what?"

Mad-Eye muttered about undercover assignments. "I suppose this means we'll have to make changes to the schedule because you'd rather act as her husband. I pass that on to Greg Robards because his son wasn't a good match, anyway."

Alice came back with a half-eaten sandwich in her hand. "What're we talking about?"

"Reassignment." Mad-Eye finished his tea and waved her inside. It was a tight fit with three people in a work station. Alice, completely at her ease, went back to her sandwich. "She's pregnant, fool."

Frank spilled his tea down his front. He caught the teacup before it shattered. Alice stood there licking mayonnaise off her finger. They'd tried for years, and Healer after Healer had insisted the chances of them having children were damn near impossible. It simply wasn't in the cards. They'd tried experimental fertility treatments; one of these had temporarily ruined her eyesight. Alice didn't cry nor get weepy, which is why Frank liked her, and she buried secrets. After the eyesight side effect fiasco, they'd stopped altogether.

Frank, shocked, found his voice. "How?"

Mad-Eye, shaking his head, left them alone. "Gene pool, Alice."

"We have sex all the time, Frank," she said, lowering her voice and taking the chair.

"Yeah, I know. I know how these things happen." Frank looked her up and down, and he saw it in her figure. How had he missed this? "But how?"

"Don't ask me. The Healer suggested we go with it and stop worrying." Alice shrugged. "Do you have any crisps in your secret stash?"

"No. I'm prepping for physicals," he said. Alice raised her eyebrows, so he caved and found a bag in the third cupboard. She caught them, smiling. "You need to tell Robards to take you out of his rounds next month."

"Oh, that's right. Mad-Eye?" Alice didn't bother with turning her head because Mad-Eye was the next cubicle over. He grunted in response. "I get a get out of jail free card for this?"

"Filed the request back in January," said Mad-Eye.

"Good deal," said Alice, opening the crisps bag.

Whatever people said about Mad-Eye, and people said a lot about Mad-Eye, he took care of his people. He protected those he cared about on his team. Alice, formerly Alice Mercer, had stayed on his team since day one. He'd handpicked her as his lady when she'd come in as a candidate. Frank was two years above her. Usually the deck got shuffled every so often, and Aurors got assigned to other teams. Frank had had a lot of leaders in his time, and he planned to serve until they kicked him out. As long as he kept on the right path, he planned on putting in a good thirty years.

Alice hung out in Frank's cubicle for pretty much the rest of the afternoon. She went and grabbed files here and there, but she hid out with him. Whilst they were married and made no secret of it, they worked really well on their own separate projects, and they didn't often work together. When the day wound down, Mad-Eye followed them into the Atrium.

Mad-Eye handed him a file discreetly. "Get you're significant other over there to fill you in, sir, for you are now Mr. Ezekiel Todd."

Mildly interested, Frank flipped through the detailed file. It had been a good while since he'd taken on an assignment because he ran his own team of twelve officers, and he missed being in the field. He saw the problem right away. It stared him right in the face; any man with common sense would readily see this. Polyjuice Potion wasn't the usual thing taken on these lengthy assignments. These could go on indefinitely. How was this a seamless transfer? Frank, a thin man with dark hair, was clearly not pudgy faced, fair-haired Mr. Gawain Robards. People who had met the fictional Todds would think twice about this.

Frank didn't like holes in his story.

"Well, the good news here is our Mrs. Todd here is also pregnant," said Mad-Eye.

Handing this off flawlessly like it was done all the time, he delegated well. This, among other things, proved an invaluable strength for Mad-Eye. Alice, Frank knew, had played Mrs. Todd since last November. They stepped through the fireplace and ended up in a shabby pub. It wasn't the Leaky Cauldron, Frank noticed, though he questioned nothing. There was power in keeping your mouth shut whilst getting orders. Mad-Eye taught him this ages ago; it saved against tedious interruptions.

Mad-Eye offered Frank his hand. "Welcome back into the field."

"Yes, sir. Today's a good day," said Frank, shaking it firmly.

He enjoyed the senior officer role, for it had turned out Frank was a natural leader and quite good at this managing lark, yet it bored him to death. They'd arrived at this place for a Order meeting; they jumped locations often and never got the exact place until the day before. Frank usually got escorted by Mad-Eye.

"Who're you?" Frank draped his arm over Alice's shoulder. He waved at James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. Not everyone attended all the meetings; it would be an obvious red flag.

"Maggie Rose Todd," she said.

"Nice. So, is this baby mine?" Frank was joking, but she took this literally and rushed over to the large table where Mad-Eye sat next to Lily. She knelt, and he bent his ear.

"Fools!" Mad-Eye beckoned to Frank with his gnarled finger. Frank sauntered over, ready to get told off by the boss. "Maggie is no whore. Straight and narrow."

"Say what?" asked James, picking up on this conversation at an odd angle.

"Nothing," said Frank and Alice together. Frank chose to stand because they were obviously going to run out of chairs, and he'd been sitting day. "Not a whore."

"Alice," said Mad-Eye.

"No, I'm good." Alice had been preparing for this role for months, and Frank gathered the project hadn't quite gotten off the ground because there weren't any worries voiced about Gawain Robards. "What've we got, Albus?"

"Nothing much. I wanted to touch base because I do this at staff meetings, and it seems to help." Professor Dumbledore sounded like he was rushed for time. He sat down and handed Mad-Eye a parcel. "Find out if that's a forgery, would you?"

"Oh, look, Alice, another task," said Mad-Eye, taking it from Dumbledore and handing it over without so much as a glance. Lily laughed. On second thought, he addressed Dumbledore. "She's better at that stuff. You want quick answers?"

"You find your Alice," said Alice, finishing a common catch phrase from the office. Alice loved this game. When Mad-Eye sighed, she added, "Oh, we weren't going thar far, were we? Sorry. I can get back to you by Wednesday night, Professor."

"Perfectly fine," said Professor Dumbledore, smiling at her. "What do you need from me?"

"That's an open question, lads." Mad-Eye spoke after an awkward silence followed this.

"Or ladies," added Lily.

Alice, who worked with a department as the sole female officer, did not bat an eye when there was no distinction. She understood Mad-Eye's clarification, though Frank bet she'd rag him about it later. She reached over and shook Lily's hand with both of hers. The younger crowd said nothing. Alice gave them a full two minutes before her hand shot straight up in the air.

Professor Dumbledore turned towards her politely. "Yes?"'

"First off, why is there no food at this table? We're at a pub, people, let's act like it. This is nonsense." Alice waved over a server and placed an order. She'd always been a foodie at heart, and this had little to do with the pregnancy. There was nothing on the table but beer bottles and wine glasses. After the server left, she said, "Secondly, where are Remus and Sirius?"

"Sirius," said Frank, who knew what this was about for Alice had gone off about this last night. Frank spotted him at the bar chatting up the barmaid. Frank ordered a couple fizzy drinks and led Sirius back to the table. After depositing him into a chair, Frank gestured at Alice to continue. "You were saying?"

"Remus isn't here? Right. People. I am not your damn keeper." Alice clapped her hands together, making it clear she was only going to say this once. "I understand you lot are new to the game, and you're learning the ropes, but you ..."

"James and his gang." Frank had no problem making this painfully obvious, especially since James sat there making paper figurines. James glared at him.

"Whoever. If we hand you an assignment, you damn well better follow it to the letter. No questions asked. Whether it comes from Professor Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, Frank, or me."

"So, you've got to be an Auror to have any power here," said Sirius savagely. He took this as a change. "Lovely."

"Shut up. What idiot abandons his post in the middle of the night? That was you." Alice thanked the server as he set down the order, though she was short with him, too. Sirius, hot-headed, claimed he did no such thing. Alice, not playing any games here, crossed her arms and adopted a deeper tone. "Sirius. Come on."

"I didn't do anything!" Sirius, instantly angry, jumped to his feet. He turned to Peter, desperate for an alibi. "You sent me an owl saying you needed me. I went."

Peter helped himself to the fish and chips. "I panicked."

"You overacted because you're acting like new recruits," said Frank.

"Not Aurors," said James. "You forget that."

Frank cleared this up. "I didn't forget anything, Mr. Potter."

"This isn't a game. How many times do I have to tell you this?" Alice took a deep breath, losing her temper with these young men fast. "If you had abandoned your post at the Ministry for whatever reason ..."

Sirius cut her off. "I didn't..."

"For whatever reason! You don't interrupt me, Mr. Black, thank you." Alice raised her voice threateningly, and Frank quieted her when he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Her face reddened. Mad-Eye remained as silent as the grave. Frank hadn't expected him to intervene, and these were basic tactics they'd visited time and time again. When Sirius insulted her, Alice shook her head, not letting him get underneath her skin. "A hierarchy exists for a reason, Sirius, because people ... they are dying. Benji almost did. This ... this isn't just about you anymore. You're playing a high stakes game here without understanding the rules. That's stupidity."

"You're annoying," said Sirius, turning to leave. "I'm not stupid. Come on, Peter."

"Nobody said ..." Alice faltered. Both boys turned to leave the pub. When she turned towards Frank, he was startled to see tears swimming in her eyes. She cleared her throat, gathering herself and trying to control her voice. "This? You're acting like a schoolboy. I saved your life."

"Whatever. You're a bitch." Sirius got his rucksack off the floor.

Maybe it had something to do with his growling stomach, but this irked Frank way more than it should have. Nobody insulted his wife. He reached out with his other hand and grabbed Sirius by the collar. "Say that again."

"Frank," said Alice, taking his threat as an empty one. She turned towards the table. "James, sit down. That's my husband you're pointing your wand at. Not a bright move."

When Frank turned around again, Lily forced James's warm arm down. "No kidding. Have you lost your mind?"

Professor Dumbledore, though Frank thought he would, did not intervene. Peter left. Mad-Eye, the unofficial second in command, took control. "If he curses you, James, I will not save you. Sirius. You follow the chain of command. End of story."

Sirius stood his ground. "That's not fair."

"That's tough," growled Mad-Eye unsympathetically.

"Sirius, I set the Order up this way for a reason," said Dumbledore with an air of finality. He pointed at Frank and Alice when Sirius walked around and slouched; he spun it around backwards before sitting down. "These people save lives. Alice and Frank are running on very little sleep, and they work demanding careers whilst protecting us. You have no idea of the accidents they have prevented. Alice fought herself out of a duel to keep three Death Eaters off you and Peter last night. They don't have lives."

"Sirius, it's exciting and adventurous, I know. You're smart. Be street smart. Because if one of you dies ... that's on me." Alice sounded kinder and wiped her face. She reached out and took Sirius's hand, and Frank was surprised the young man didn't pull away. No matter the hour, Frank and Alice covered these boys and Lily. They were in their early twenties, yet being three or four years past the age of majority didn't make them adults. The law labelled them so. "I'm tired, okay? Tell someone...not me because I'm a bitch. But tell someone when you decide to make another move. Caradoc disappeared because he fell through the cracks."

"Drop this Marauder stuff," said Frank, hoping he put this is terms they understood. He hoped he didn't sound unkind. Nodding at James, for it appeared they were in the same boat as expectant fathers, he made his rational plea towards the ringleader of the gang. James needed to grow up because time was running out. Frank gestured at the group as a whole. "We, the Order of Phoenix, we are now your brotherhood. You don't abandon thy brothers ... nor thy sisters. Recognize."

Lily nodded curtly, satisfied she didn't have to play the gender card here, sat back. "Remus learned this lesson already. The time for childhood games and jokes has passed. Grow the hell up, gentlemen."

"Thanks, Lily," said Frank.

Lily gave him a thumbs-up, cool and confident. "No problem. I've got this."

"Well done, miss," said Mad-Eye.

He didn't act as though he wanted to at first, but he returned her smile and her thumbs-up. Lily laughed along with everyone else. Mad-Eye adjourned the meeting shortly after this, for he sounded beat, too. Dumbledore asked his old friend for a private word.

"Ready to go home, Maggie?" asked Frank.

Frank switched to his assigned role. Alice said yes after she put stuff in a carryout box. This hadn't been so much an Order meeting as an intervention or a wake up call. Frank slipped off his traveling cloak and draped it over her shoulders because it had started raining, and he magicked an umbrella out of thin air when they stepped outside. Alice had forgotten her traveling cloak at work.

"One moment, Lily," said Frank. He handed Alice the umbrella and stepped out into the cold rain. Sirius, James, and Lily had gotten out first, and although Sirius and James pretended he wasn't there, Frank bent her ear. As he was a Longbottom, Frank was so financially secure it was ridiculous. "If you or James need anything, anything at all, come find me."

Lily smiled at Alice. "You figured out she's not just getting fat?"

Alice burst out laughing. Lily took this as a definite yes.

"I'm stupid? Will that suffice?" Frank realized he bargained with two women here. What could he do? Frank had no problem calling himself an idiot as long as he deserved it. Self-depreciation saved him.

Lily let him off the hook, hugging him. Her yellow umbrella shifted in her hand. "James isn't much of an idiot, either. But thank you."

"That goes for that woman standing over there, too." Frank pointed his thumb at Alice. He kissed Lily on the cheek and wished her goodnight. Lily went back to her boys, and Frank helped Alice with the carryout container. "You haven't any doubts about me being a father?"

"Nope. We're good." Alice shifted the large red handbag on her shoulder. They waited for the older men. Dumbledore and Mad-Eye came out laughing, and Frank wondered if they shared a private joke.

"Ezekiel and Maggie," said Mad-Eye, nodding to them. This was his version of good night. Dumbledore actually bothered with saying farewell. They walked off together. Frank and Alice, not long for this world, for they were both dead on their feet, followed in their wake.

Playing a married couple was actually difficult when you were already married to your significant other. Frank found this out really quickly. They didn't have to shed their closeness, but Frank and Alice could no longer be Frank and Alice. He lived for the small things.

If the Death Eaters knew all of their quirks, they would basically be themselves masquerading in finer clothes. This would kill them. Alice, left-handed, had trained herself to be ambidextrous, for in her mind, Maggie's dominant hand was the right one. She'd used a Color Changing Charm to change her hair to rich, brunette locks.

After work, they changed into these people and left their true selves behind. They changed house, which was a headache in itself, yet they weren't strapped with two mortgage payments. The Ministry paid for everything. In late May, Frank returned to this house to find the second bedroom transformed into a nursery. Alice, who came home early more because Mad-Eye insisted the neighbors needed to see her out and about, showed him the lacy bassinet.

The walls were pink. When he got home, she whispered seductively in his ear, and before he knew his next move, they made love on the nursery floor.

Alice laughed when Frank asked what was for dinner.

"Was that Maggie or you?" Frank zipped his trousers and buttoned his shirt. They masqueraded as Muggles. "I'm good either way. No complaints."

Alice rolled her eyes and laid on the thick comforter.

"So, are you shooting for subtlety here, or does this mean we're having a girl?" Frank nodded when Alice said she had nothing to do with decorating this place. She didn't want to know the gender. "Ah, well, that's a potential problem."

"Why?" Alice searched for her clothes and got dressed. As she got bigger, it was more comfortable to don Muggle clothes.

"What happens if Maggie's and Zeek's daughter comes out sporting an extra appendage?" Frank raised his eyebrows when Alice's round face fell in a comical expression. He helped her to her feet. "Uh huh. Suddenly Betsy's not Betsy."

"Betsy? That's awful." Alice frowned at him and watched him make pre-packaged macaroni cheese. Frank showed her the two wrapped parcels and admitted he was lost. He understood the pasta part, though the other white parcel threw him for a loop. "It's powdered cheese. You mix it in."

Frank shrugged and handed her the stuff.

"You read the box, Zeek," she said, adding the powdered processed cheese in with a touch of milk. She served up pork chops, canned corn, and macaroni cheese. After Lily had explained the mystery of the can opener, Alice had become rather adept with using the Muggle contraption. They sat at the small dining room table. "You think they're watching us?"

"What? In the nursery?" Frank frowned, for it hadn't crossed his mind. Bugging was a Muggle tactic, not a magical one. He sounded unsure. "No? I hope not."

Alice tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Someone needs to stop spending time with Alastor Moody." Since she'd planted the idea in his head, Frank got stuck, and the previous scene played through his mind. Alice, amused, watched the shock wash over his face. He lost his appetite. "Wait. When did this occur to you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Alice waited for him to pick up his fork again.

"Don't tease me, Maggie, I don't like it." Frank got to invent Zeek from scratch, which he liked, and Alice got to do the same with her cover. He started eating again. It was nice of the Auror Office to give them complete freedom. He thought of another puzzle. "Does this mean we have to come up with two names?"

"For?" Alice got the point when Frank waved at her with his fork. She rested her hand briefly on her belly. "Oh, I didn't think of that. You think so?"

"I don't see this lifting before the end of summer, do you?" The process moved slowly as they tracked the movements of Augustus Rookwood. Alice shook her head. If they sped things up, they risked exposing themselves and blowing the entire operation. "So, what're we calling her? The crazy cat lady across the street wants to throw you a baby shower."

"No. That's mental." Alice asked for seconds. Frank got up to get her some, and they went back to discussing names. "Charlotte."

"Lottie Longbottom?" Frank played Devil's advocate and tossed this back in her face. Alice scratched this out on a nearby notepad. Frank gave it a go. "Regina."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response. Besides the crazy cat knows us as Todd. Charlotte Todd works." Alice jotted it down and promptly crossed it out. "I'm still thinking. You go."

Frank racked his brains and snapped his fingers. "Joshua."

"Joshua," said Alice approvingly, saying the name aloud and consulting their long list. This thing had been drafted over days. The way this went, if he mentioned a boy's name, she matched him with another one. She said nothing for minutes. Frank, thinking they were done with the game for the day, started doing the dishes by hand. He didn't catch it the first time. "Neville Joshua."

"What? No." Frank dipped his hands into the soapy water. When she said nothing, he turned and saw pure content on her face. "Alice! Alice, no. Neville? A kid called Neville gets beat up and picked on."

"Shut up, Francis," she said, still smiling.

"Yeah! You know my name? Francis Dominic? I learned to run fast. So many jokes. Not funny jokes." Frank finished cleaning the kitchen and cursed his mother for branding him with this atrocity. "Seriously? Alice."

It wasn't happening. There was no way in hell Frank was calling his child Neville Longbottom. 


	2. Not an Officer

The screaming in the middle of the night terrified him. As a decorated Auror who had seen stuff in his day, Frank didn't scare easily, and Alice had seen more than her share of skin crawling scenarios, too. As the only son in the Longbottom family, a pampered one, Frank understood precious little about what to expect here. Whenever she sent him to the shop for an ice cream in the dead of night, Frank learned to argue less. The water works flooded the gates; Alice cried at the drop of a hat these days. Frank imagined this was what it was like taking care of an unruly toddler.

In the wee hours of the morning, Frank returned home with not one but two cartons of ice cream. Figuring this might save him a trip down the road, though he seriously doubted it, Frank shifted the plastic bags in his hand. He'd grabbed some cheap cat food for the batty neighbor because she'd asked for some whenever he ran errands.

"Cat food," he said, handing it over. The cat lady showed him her sharp teeth and gave her thanks. She waited outside his front door. Frank, not as paranoid as Mad-Eye, never let her in the house alone.

She adjusted her hat. "How's the wife, Mr. Todd?"

"Pregnant. Very pregnant," said Frank, fumbling in his trouser pockets for his keys. A simple Summoning Charm would've made quick work on this, but Frank acted liked a Muggle, and he committed through and through. Kneeling on the ground, he checked underneath the doormat for the spare key. Nothing there. "Damn."

"Must be stressful. You've got a new job and a new place with a baby on the way," said the cat lady. Frank couldn't recall her name for the life of him! Was it Smith or Byrd? "She still werkin'?"

Frank, trying to be polite, aimed to nod or grunt at the appropriate stops, but he wasn't really listening. How did Muggles live without magic? Someone screamed inside, and Frank knew this was Alice screaming bloody murder from her night terrors. He set the ice cream on the doormat. Panicked, unable to tell himself it was nothing, Frank shrugged off his coat, wrapped it round his fist, and punched clean though one of the rectangular glass panes in the front door. Glass shattered and spilled onto the floor.

"You're a postman," said Mrs. Byrd, shocked.

"Uh huh." Frank used his hand through the hole and unlocked the door from the inside. Mrs. Byrd grabbed the bags and followed him inside without being told to do so. Frank thanked her, calling her Mrs. Byrd as he shouted over his shoulder and dashed into the bedroom. As he approached her, Frank took his wand out of his pocket and held it aloft. She was fine, visibly shaken from a bad dream, but fine. Frank stowed his wand in the bedside cabinet drawer and left it open. "Alice, you are scaring the hell out of me."

Alice lay back down, her large eyes darting everywhere. "I'm fine. We're fine."

Frank nodded. He climbed into bed with her, fully-dressed, and pulled her closer to him. He put his hand over hers, resting it on her belly. Alice's breathing slowed back to normal. She wasn't the cuddling sort, yet this seemed to help calm her down. Frank shushed her, brushing her damp blonde hair out of her face, and she started sobbing. His shirt became her handkerchief; he'd stopped caring about this a couple weeks ago.

"They were chasing you again?" he asked. She lived the same recurring dream often, and apparently it was a rather vivid one. In the dream, or the nightmare, or whatever this night terror was, Alice ran down a narrow street and cries echoed off the walls, though she never found whatever she searched for because she always woke up at different times. "It's only a dream. Damnit. I left the cat lady and the ice cream."

"She's got a name," said Alice, wiping her eyes hastily. "Mrs. Byrd isn't homeless, although she smells like it. Did you get her any cat food?"

"Maggie. Yes, of course." So, Frank thought, slightly relieved, he had indeed guessed the right name. Frank was allergic to cats and he hated them. It wasn't so bad he couldn't hang around cat people, although he couldn't touch the furry things. Frank closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, or so he thought, and he drifted off to sleep. He didn't realize he did this at first, but when he opened his eyes, the alarm clock read 2:14. He felt the opposite side of the bed. "Love?"

Frank got up. Thinking she'd gotten up to grab a midnight snack, he stripped off his clothes and took a shower. After pulling on his pajamas and a dressing gown, Frank checked the bed; she still wasn't there. Frank had taken his time in the shower, too, so it was odd she didn't need to use the bathroom.

"Maggie? Maggie?" He called out for his wife.

Frank had to stop himself from calling out the wrong name. When he got down the corridor, he heard a scuffle and a groan. Frank grabbed his wand and stuffed it inside his dressing gown. When he got in the sitting room, Alice sat on the couch, her feet propped up on the cushion. When she couldn't sleep, Alice drifted into here and usually landed on the couch. A tabloid magazine laid on the floor. Mrs. Byrd sat on the end of the couch supporting Alice's head; she held a knife to her throat.

"What is the meaning of this?" Frank, furious, took a step forwards. Mrs. Byrd, grinning toothily, made a disapproving tutting sound and shook her head. She drove the blade in deeper and nicked Alice's neck. "What're you doing to my wife? Release her."

"Attacking me is a federal offense," said Alice, her tone shaking. Her threat fell to deaf ears, and she groaned when the woman pressed her in the back. "Leave."

"Or what?" The warning did nothing for their friendly, batty neighbor.

Mrs. Byrd snatched Alice's wand out of her hand without having to disarm her and got to her feet. Without warning, she drove the blade into Alice's right hand. Screaming in agony, Alice rolled onto her side and caught herself before she slammed head first into the glass coffee table.

Mrs. Byrd raised Alice's wand higher and stated muttering a curse. "i Cru.../i!"

Frank raised his wand. By protocol, though Frank honestly didn't care about procedure at the moment, they had to wait for the attacker to make the first move. He didn't get to Mrs. Byrd first.

Instinctively, Alice, gritting through the pain, grabbed the ceramic lamp on the side table and shattered it against the side of the woman's head. She fell, unconscious, onto the floor. The lampshade landed on the other side of the sitting room. Alice almost collapsed on top of her, but Frank rushed over to steady her.

"Are you all right?" He stroked her face and pushed her back on the couch.

"Yes." Alice watched the blood leak onto the clean carpet. Red spilled onto white. Although the knocked-out Mrs. Byrd couldn't hear her, she spoke to her. "When you go after someone, fool, make sure that person won't fight back. Don't back me into a corner, darling, for I'll find a way out."

Frank knelt and took the wand back. When he walked back over to Alice, he took her injured hand in his gingerly. He spoke softly, asking her if she wanted him to pull it out. Alice nodded, lying back down, and she turned her head in the opposite direction, facing the cushions.

"This isn't a good idea," he said, examining it with a light touch; the blade had sliced cleanly through her hand. She couldn't feel it because of the adrenaline coursing through her body and the endorphins blocking the pain, but she'd feel everything once the blade got taken out."Let me take you to the hospital. You're in shock."

"Please. Frank, I don't care." Alice's face drained of color. "Please."

Frank bided his time. This was not a good idea, but he'd do whatever he said. Slowly, he raised his wand, conjured a happy memory, and a silvery form shot out of the end of his wand tip. It cantered through the closed front door. Frank left the damage in place because be didn't want to tamper with the crime scene. As they were undercover and living a secret life, he didn't know what good preserving a crime scene would do. After he conjured a box of latex gloves, he slipped some on and yanked the blade out without counting to three or giving some other sort of warning. Alice cried out.

"I know, I know," he said, wincing at her pain, cleaning it up quick and dirty. He tapped his wand on her wrist, and bandages shot out of the end of it. On occasion, especially when he had to act as both her officer and her husband, Frank hated that he'd married his best mate. He set the bloody blade aside and held her in his arms.

Mad-Eye arrived on the scene minutes later. He looked around and took in the scene. In the case of a normal burglary or assault, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement would have been despatched on the scene, but, technically, Maggie and Ezekiel Todd didn't exist. Alice took a while to gather herself, and Mad-Eye didn't press her. Frank, confused, went into the kitchen and fished some ice cream out of the freezer. He rather liked this Muggle appliance because he found it useful.

"It's chocolate." He gave her a bowl and a spoon. Alice, despite the fact that she'd worked on sharpening her ambidextrous skills, ate clumsily.

"Food works for you?" Mad-Eye sat in an armchair after he took a verbal statement. Alice nodded, licking the spoon, and Frank said she was easy to figure out. "I'll keep that in mind. Should I even bother asking how much you weigh?"

"No," she said, though at this point, Alice really didn't care. Even if she had watched her figure for physicals, the demanding obstacle course would've killed her. After he promised not to judge her, Alice gave Mad-Eye a figure.

Frank pointed out some advice his mother had shared with him. "You should never ask a woman that question."

"Okay. Look, Alice, I like you," said Mad-Eye, rubbing his gnarled hands together. He never bothered with putting things delicately. "I don't know how this works."

"We need more women on the force," said Alice, commenting on how awkwardly they all tiptoed around her with what the menfolk considered a sensitive topic. "I'm pregnant, Mad-Eye not bedridden with spattergrot or something."

"All the same, it's the middle of July, and you get winded walking to the lift," said Mad-Eye. "I think it's time we shuffle your assignments whilst you take leave."

"You can't...you can't be serious," she said, turning from Frank, to Mad-Eye, and back again. "I have a court appearance tomorrow. I am fine. Francis!"

Frank shrugged his shoulders half-heartedly. Unless someone twisted his arm to the point of breaking it, he wasn't going to admit he'd suggested this to Mad-Eye, and Mad-Eye wasn't going to rat him out. Frank tried to say there was no harm in stepping back, and she'd still be able to keep the guise of Maggie Todd and stay in the field.

"Oh, because I'm huge? Nice." Alice ate her ice cream and reminded Frank of a chubby child who didn't get her way. "So we're clear? I hate both of you right now. Help me up."

Frank grinned at her. "You want to storm out angrily?"

"I will hurt you. Don't think because I can't get up ..." Alice took his hand and clambered to her feet. "You're going to bench me in the Order, too? The Auror Office is demanding twenty hours overtime, and you're doing this to me? I'm not Lily. I am one of the best in the field."

"You fell asleep," said Mad-Eye. When Alice laughed this off as some preposterous excuse to get her out the door, he pressed on. "Last Thursday. When we had that joint conference with Robards and the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, you fell asleep on Frank's shoulder."

"I did not," said Alice.

"You were snoring, Alice," said Mad-Eye, nodding. Alice apologized. "Yeah. How much sleep did you get last night? You're not fine. Go to bed."

"I'll be right back." Frank helped Alice upstairs before she had a shot at answering this question. It wasn't worth it because Mad-Eye would tell her off. She passed out before her head hit the pillow, and he went back down. Mad-Eye took a swig from his hip flask and pointed at the couch. A little surprised at being told to sit down in own house, Frank followed orders. "She's used to being in the thick of it."

"You think I want to tell her no?" Mad-Eye shot at him. He got up and knelt over the body by the couch. He pointed his wand at the imposter's chest, muttering he had a bit of Veritaserum in his pocket if they needed it. He patched her up. Pulling Mrs. Byrd into a sitting position on the floor, he said, "iRenervate/i!"

He forced a potion, and Frank guessed this was Blood-Replenishing Potion because her color came back, down her throat, and her eyes fluttered open. After a moment or two, Mad-Eye asked if she knew who he was. She said yes, her voice cackling. After a bit of questioning, sounding rather pleased with herself, Mrs. Byrd revealed her true identity as Alecto Carrow.

"You attacked a pregnant woman in her home," he said, getting down to business and offering her no other kindness. Carrow, smiling, repeated Alice's bit about attacking an Auror. "She was not telling you this to save your skin, you swine, Auror Longbottom gave you fair warning. It's the law."

Carrow chuckled. "Guess you're foiled again."

Frank cleared her memory with a nonverbal spell. A dreamy expression came over Alecto Carrow's face, and her eyes were unfocused. He wiped her memory. Even though they could've used her if this went to trial, it had never happened. Frank thought his cover was far more important. What complications would this raise in regards to this? Frank threw her bodily from his house and slammed the door in her face.

"Can't get testimony," grumbled Mad-Eye.

"There is no Ezekiel or Maggie." Frank smiled as he mimed brushing dirt off his hands. "She's fine. We don't need security, which is probably what you're going to say, because we can take care of ourselves."

"Frank."

"It's handled. I'm going to bed." Angry with with himself more than anyone else, Frank went upstairs and left Mad-Eye standing in the sitting room.

Frank Longbottom couldn't not be Frank Longbottom. He had switched among three identities at one point or another, and he'd rarely gotten caught in the act. The next day, he woke up to a surprise. Even though Mad-Eye had specifically asked Alice to take her maternity she'd refused to "sit on the sidelines", and the menfolk weren't going to handle some woman. That's exactly how she'd phrased it. Other than get lost in the trenches in some baking binge, what exactly was she going to do?

In her anger at the very suggestion that they fix this problem for her, Alice had indeed gotten swept in an all-nighter whilst Frank, unable to talk her off the melodramatic ledge, headed to bed. Hours later, he'd woken up to a makeshift bakery in the kitchen. The counters were covered in muffins. muffins, and more muffins. Alice overdid it. She did not outdo herself, which might've served as a compliment to some happy housewives; she went into overdrive and collapsed at the table.

After he poured himself some coffee, Frank collected the mixing bowls and the baking tins and things. He washed up, saw he forgot stuff, and tasted the batter off a spatula. Alice slept through the whole thing. Frank woke her when he fried the rest of the eggs that had been spared from the binge and fried some bacon, too.

"Morning. That's enough baking for you, love, you've murdered enough chickens for a good while. We're out of butter, too. I'll go shopping after work." He helped himself to a blueberry muffin and gestured at his face, telling her she had splashes of batter here and there. He kissed her on the cheek. "It's good. I'm leaving in a half hour. If you're coming with me, you'd better get moving. You need anything?"

"Toothpaste and vanilla extract, the pure stuff," she said drowsily as she went upstairs.

Frank drafted a quick list. Later that afternoon, if he got out of work at a decent hour, he'd head to the local supermarket and restock on the necessities. He'd pick up things for the Potters, too. They'd wrapped themselves in this buddy system thing; Alice, it turned out, really liked the younger crowd. After this was done, he fell back in line and stuffed the muffins in two baskets. There was still plenty left for them, too, though there were only so many of these things he could eat.

He handed her his briefcase and carried the baked goods himself. Alice went first, and Frank went after her because they were less likely to forget anything if he followed her. When they entered the Atrium, he gave Eric, the bored out of his mind security wizard, a couple muffins before he followed his wife up to Auror Headquarters. Alice went to work straightaway.

"People, we have food," he said, setting a basket by the coffee pot in the tearoom. He lowered his voice, even though there was no way Alice could hear him. It was like a swarm of bees attacked these things because they were gone in no time. "The wife went a little crazy."

Frank headed towards his desk and found Mad-Eye there. This hadn't been a completely unexpected move because Alice rarely deliberately disobeyed a direct order. In Frank's opinion, though he probably had no say here, it had been more of a suggestion or a request. What could Mad-Eye really do to punish her? As long as Alice stayed chained to a desk and stayed off her feet, Frank didn't feel as though he needed to make a fuss.

Alice offered him a large muffin, a chocolate one, as a peace offering.

Mad-Eye pointed a finger at her. "Longbottom, what is she doing here?"

Alice showed him a mountain of paperwork and placed a thermos on the desk.

"Not talking to you," said Mad-Eye, sniffing the muffin with his hunk of a nose. Pretending she wasn't feet away from him, Mad-Eye talked about Alice and rounded back on Frank. Frank, who hadn't even made it to his seat, stood in the line of fire. Mad-Eye helped himself to a couple other muffins hanging from Frank's arm.

"They're baked with love and happiness," said Frank, setting the basket in his work station.

Alice scoffed. "If we were being honest with ourselves here, they're packed full of resentment and hostility, but what the hell? Let's not go there."

Mad-Eye took a bite and escaped into his cubicle. Frank wandered if this cold shoulder would last all day because Alice truly was one of Mad-Eye's favorites. He'd made her from scratch, and he wasn't going to share her. Frank conjured another swivel chair and sat down to his work. Alice could have headed to her cubicle, and she might have done this, but Mad-Eye was feet away. Buried in their individual work projects, Frank and Alice didn't speak to each other until Mad-Eye stepped away to use the restroom.

"You should apologize," said Frank.

"Me? I did nothing wrong!" Alice corrected the reports from the lower-ranked officers. When Frank suggested she have tea with Mad-Eye, Alice rolled her eyes. "Tea? That man drinks whatever is in that hip flask. I don't think he drinks tea, do you? Why should I apologize? Because he's my commanding officer? Do you grovel at John Dawlish's feet, Frank?"

"No." Frank stepped away to have a heart to heart about a report with a candidate. A lot of his job was policing his people, and he liked keeping a tight ship. By the time a candidate rolled around to his third year of training, he or she needed to start standing on their feet. When he came back, he read through a few interdepartmental memos. The last one told him about an Auror joining his team. He would lose one to win one; Michael Summers got exchanged for a Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Alice. Look at this." Alice held her hand out for the folder and read through the profile with mild interest. Technically, as they were not on the same team, Alice would not have normally been privy to this information. If Frank didn't share it with her now, she'd hear about it sooner or later. It was an overview of a young black man called Kingsley Shacklebolt. Greg Robards, who was nice to nobody and showed favoritism to no one, except perhaps his own son, had written a beautiful letter of recommendation.

"I'm jealous." Alice read it through more than once. "Yeah, fast track this young man. Did you see these candidate stats? Frank, this man would've kicked your ass when you entered the program! Wait. Where're you going?"

"I'm going fishing. Be back soon." Frank snatched up the file and went to find this Kingsley. He found him six rows down. "Morning."

"Major." Kingsley got to his feet and stood at attention. No doubt about it, Frank thought, this bloke was military. Someone had taken interest in this man and honed his skills.

"Addressed by rank? That's rare. I used to do that, but it's not required." Frank shook his hand. "Got a minute?"

"Of course." Kingsley waved him inside his work station. Frank picked up after himself, and he kept his messes until control, but this man made Frank out to be some downright slob. He was surgically clean! His cupboards were labelled, actually labelled, and there were organized stacks here and there. "I requested to be on your service. I didn't expect the transfer to go through so quickly."

"Believe you me, I'm happier to have you than you are to have me as a commanding officer. You were bred for this." Frank flashed Kingsley's file, although he dared not show him what was inside it. That was against the rules.

"Well, you are something of a legend." Kingsley smiled at him. "Your wife is impressive, too. Not that I mean to flatter you."

"I almost chose to bat for the other team," said Frank. When Kingsley gave him a confused look, he said, pointing towards the Annex, "I wanted to be a lawyer when I was in school. That lanky, awkward kid you saw building card houses out of Exploding Snap decks? That was me."

"The wallflower? I don't believe it!" Kingsley set his work aside for a moment and sipped his coffee. It was his fifth year in the program, eight if you counted the training years as a candidate. "You're lying."

"No, no, I swear it." Frank crossed his heart and parked his butt on Kingsley's desk. He realized, too late yet again, he should've asked permission before making himself at home. He asked. Kingsley smiled, asking him if he always did things backwards. "Not always."

Frank stayed with him for a little over an hour. As he acted like a silent vulture, Frank knew better than too overstay his welcome. He had work to do in the field, anyway. He didn't know how to explain this or put it into words but he felt an instant connection with this man. It wasn't even so much that Kingsley reminded him of himself. Whoever had sent this officer Frank's way knew him really, really well.

"You like him," said Alice, glancing at him when Frank came back to his desk. Frank grinned from ear to ear, but he didn't say anything. "I can tell by the way you're walking. Frank, you've found your bloke!"

"Hey." Frank knocked on the wall of Mad-Eye's cubicle. Mad-Eye, who was busy with reports and paperwork, didn't look up at him. Frank took his grunt as a yes. "If there a way I find the paper trail from a transfer request?"

Mad-Eye frowned at him. "I'm not your commanding officer."

Technically, when he considered the big picture, this wasn't true. Frank took this to mean this would be a lengthy headache not worth the chase. Perhaps this was true; he did not know. Even though Frank had his own team with privileges, he didn't have all the answers.

Frank spun around in a circle and gave it another go. "Say, hypothetically …"

"Right. You two." Mad-Eye set down his work and jerked his head at Alice and Frank. "You are wearing my patience. She can't follow orders."

"What orders?" Alice handed a report off to candidate and asked him to redraft it. She turned towards Mad-Eye. Mad-Eye said he gave her leave. "No, you were handling me like a child. It's insulting, and frankly, it's beneath you."

"I did not," said Mad-Eye evenly.

"Alice," said Frank.

"No!" Alice used the desk to get to her feet and followed Mad-Eye outside when he asked for a private word. Frank followed them in case he needed to intervene. When they reached a conference room, Mad-Eye locked the door behind them. None of them sat down. "Your parents were both Aurors, and I don't know if that means you got the golden ticket in qualification rounds or what, but you ought to be ashamed of yourself, sir. Your mother would be. Sir."

Mad-Eye leaned on the heavy door and crossed his arms. "What?"

"I am stronger than half the people out there. I am! Do you have any idea what they say behind my back?" Alice raised her voice when Mad-Eye tried to speak. "You say you're proud of me?" Mad-Eye tapped his prosthetic foot on the carpet. "Not today."

"Oh, Alastor, come!" Alice had never, at least not in any instance Frank could recall, addressed Mad-Eye by his first name. She paced around the large table surrounded by chairs. She blinked furiously, and Frank guessed she fought back tears. "When you placed me on leave, when you made this decision for me, you took control. Did you push through my promotion so that I'd walk away with a pension plan? I'm nothing to you?"

"Oh." Frank hadn't picked up on this last night, and he opted to take responsibility for his oversight, but she wasn't done.

"You can't invest everything in people and tear them down! I look to you and I wait for you. When you asked us to join ranks with the Order, I thought you respected me enough …" Alice's voice caught in her throat. She bit her lip. "To hell with it. I quit."

"Alice," said Mad-Eye. When she turned to leave the conference room, he grabbed her by the arm.

"What? What do you want?" Alice glared at him.

"The reason they target you is not because you're a woman," said Mad-Eye. He rolled his eyes, though he did not mean to offend her here, either. He stopped, realizing he went about this the wrong way. "If I were to ask you to analyze an Auror's weaknesses, what would you say?"

"It depends on the officer, and that officer has the ability to change over time. Fears change." Alice set her anger aside to address her commanding officer. Alice did not often have to draw conclusions about her peers. Whilst she was part of a team, she had declined repeated offers to build one of her own. There were leaders and there were followers; Alice would die for Mad-Eye Moody.

"All right. Good enough." Mad-Eye turned towards Frank. "Tell me about this man."

"Francis Dominic Longbottom, 37, Major, enlisted," said Alice, stopping when she tired of the foolishness of this exercise. "Mad-Eye, I sleep with this man. There are lines; we stay within the lines. This is stupid."

Mad-Eye nodded. "What is his weakness?"

Alice, staring at Frank's expressionless face, did a double take.

Mad-Eye prompted her again. "Weakness."

A good officer admitted he had more than one of these. Frank was not a perfect man; he was not a perfect officer. He lived for this group, for they were his brothers, but he lived for other people, too. She could mention his fear of being buried alive or his fear of fire. (Frank had been set aflame twice in his career, and neither of those experiences had bettered him as a man.) Frank hadn't expected to be the chosen officer.

"We have our personal and professional lives, Mad-Eye," said Alice.

"Not the answer I'm looking for, ma'am, but you're getting warmer." Mad-Eye gave her an example. "When Frank was lit on fire last year, what was the first action he took?"

"He lay on top of me." Alice's eyes got large. "He wasn't the target."

"No. Ma'am." Mad-Eye bowed his head. "I'm not shoving you off to the side or dismissing you, Alice. You need to see yourself as more than an officer. You're more than an officer to me."


	3. Not a Magican

Alice pushed the limits. As the only female officer who demanded to be seen as an equal among men, she had to. Or she felt she had to. It put a lot of pressure on her shoulders. Whenever she got caught up in a pursuit, Alice, like everyone else, hit the ground running. Of course, these days, Frank didn't call what she did running, but they went out for lunch for a bite to eat, and she couldn't help herself.

They liked those hidden gems scattered throughout London. As she felt a hankering to eat and eat now, they had settled for the Leaky Cauldron instead. In a week, Frank had adopted Kingsley Shacklebolt as his new best friend; he hadn't one of those in a long while.

There was a queue, which they expected with the lunch crowd. Frank thought it was rather funny how, at the sight of a very pregnant woman, and Alice was indeed very pregnant, folks parted like the Red Sea, and a chair appeared out of nowhere. He hadn't noticed this before. Alice breathed like a stressed out bulldog.

They got rushed to the top of the queue. Alice, after dashing to the bathroom, squeezed into a table. "What?"

"You're useful to have around," he said, offering her a wrapped thing of silverware.

"Very funny," she said sarcastically. They got served food. As Frank dug into his sandwich, Alice grabbed his wrist and closed her eyes. He asked her if she felt all right, and this annoyed her. "Talk."

"If this is the real thing ..." Frank paused.

The wait and anticipation of this threw all his level-headedness and coolness straight out the window. The last two nights, even though she'd told him it was nothing, he'd whisked her away to St. Mungo's only to wait three hours to be told to go home. One Healer, tired of Frank's questions, suggested they not come back until it was definitely time. Alice, uncomfortable and irritable, had crashed on the couch for the past week.

"Francis, when you fret like this, I think of your mother," she said, her face relaxing after a few moments. Frank thanked her. "The sad part? You think that's a compliment."

Frank frowned, insulted. They went back to their meal. After being told she'd gained too much weight, Alice went on a diet of sorts and started walking anywhere and everywhere. After lunch Frank walked up and down Diagon Alley with her. Alice muttered to herself and carried on a one-way conversation.

"Are you trying to convince him to come out?" Frank, skeptical, frowned at her. He laughed heartily when she flipped him off. He'd tried to be helpful, though this was difficult when he knew nothing about nothing. Alice said there should be stairs at work. "I heard sex helps."

"He's wedged in there good and tight. Right there." Alice, pretending she didn't hear his suggestion, took Frank's hand and placed it on her side. Frack felt a kick after a while, but Neville went back to sleep. The name Neville hadn't grown on him. Frank still didn't like it. "I want to go home."

Mad-Eye gave her free reign to do whatever. If Alice wanted to work a half day, she worked a half day. Frank didn't see how that would work today because she had other commitments and was expected in court later that afternoon. "You have testimony."

As they turned around again, Frank caught a profile of a watery eyed fellow with a pale face out of the corner of his eye. What the hell would Peter Pettigrew be doing in Knockturn Alley? Thinking he'd simply imagined this, Frank turned back the other way, but Alice raised her wand and gave chase. She didn't often think twice. As she hadn't run in a while, this slowed quickly to an awkward gait. They entered an abandoned shop, and she got defeated going halfway up the stairs; she fell heading up the incline.

"Alice!" Frank rushed over to her. The man fled. Frank caught a glimpse of a traveling cloak sweeping the dusty floor and nothing more. "What were you thinking? Are you hurt?"

"No." She shook her head and fear crept into her voice. "Peter. Peter!"'

"What made you fall?" Frank helped her to her feet and picked up a broken high heel. He mended it and placed it back on her swollen foot after he mended her sprained ankle. Alice said she didn't know why she'd fallen down; it was one of his more stupid questions. When she questioned why Peter would run away, he shrugged. "Maybe he was afraid. There weren't two people fleeing the scene, and perhaps you thought you saw Peter."

"It was Peter." Alice didn't put up a fight when he insisted they go to St. Mungo's. The wait time was less in the early afternoon, and they stayed in the general waiting area until they got assigned to a ward. She leaned back in the chair and let the matron examine her without a fuss. The matron used a wooden device and shifted it on Alice's abdomen. When Frank frowned as he watched her muttering, she snapped out of it. "I know what I saw."

The matron ran a few other tests, telling an annoyed Alice she simply wanted to cover her apples. It was better to be safe than sorry. Frank, resting his hands on an empty chair, nodded. She said, and this wasn't the first time they'd heard this, Alice's blood pressure was through the roof. When she inquired about the previous visits, flipping through the patient chart, Alice rolled her eyes at the ceiling, pulled her shirt down, and asked if they could leave.

"It's nothing more than a nervous father," she said. "You should really give him something because when this happens, Frank's going to scare the living hell out of all of you."

"Mr. Longbottom, she's fine," said the matron with a smile, although Frank wasn't all that reassured. "He slept through it, and he'll come when he's ready. Worry when you have something to fret over. Go home. Enjoy the last days of peace."

"Wait," said Frank, tapping the matron on the arm. He wasn't disappointed. In fact, he was glad to finally have an answer, but he pointed this out. "You said it's a he. Not to be a stickler here, but we asked to keep the gender secret."

"Frank," said Alice. "It's fine. Is Dewey here?"

"Yes, ma'am," said the matron, signing the patient chart. Dewey, Frank's father, ran Spell Damage as the Healer-in-Charge. "Do you want me to Summon him? He's telling everyone about his grandson. I would bet he's more excited than you two."

Dewey wanted a grandson; at the end of the month, he didn't actually know he was getting one of those.

Speaking of the devil, heavyset and winded, Frank's father pounded up the ward. He wore the usual Healer robes. Dewey had known they'd been here before, but his hands had been tied with patients and other responsibilities Dewey was a busy, busy man. He was an overweight man with a jovial face and large hands. Alice leaned back and grabbed the helpful matron's hand. Both of the health professionals fired questions at her. Alice, saying she was late for a court proceeding, insisted this was nothing.

"When was the last one?" asked Dewey.

"Dunno. Frank?" Alice turned towards him, though it didn't matter. She took matters in her own hands and checked the time. "Look, Neville's not coming until August because I've got a packed timetable, and he'll stay on schedule. We've got four days. He can come in four days."

"It doesn't work that way, Alice." Dewey warned her, shaking his finger. Even though he worked in Spell Damage, Dewey had delivered babies in a pinch. Alice paid him no heed and started to leave the ward. "See you tomorrow."

They left. Frank went with his father's say on this. Frank didn't have any other brothers or sisters, but his father, Dewey, understood quite a lot about people after working at the hospital for over forty-five years. They had a strange relationship. It wasn't a bad one, though Frank was obviously a mama's boy. His father ragged him about this. Dewey held Frank to a high standard. It took Frank a long time to understand why; Augusta wanted Frank to be great; Dewey wanted him to survive.

Frank might not have made it without Dewey. However brave people thought he was or perceived him to be at any given moment, he unashamedly credited his father with always insisting he fall down and get up. Augusta really told stories that were over the top and held her son on shelf he didn't deserve. Dewey kept Frank down to earth, and he knocked him down a few pegs if he had to.

A couple days later, they went to dinner at his parents' house. Three years ago, Alice's parents had died in a freak accident; they had died from a rare disease contracted whilst on one of their travels. Until recently, Frank and Alice had family dinner night with his folks. With the underc" k  
over detail they couldn't talk about and the demands off the Order, they were stretched thin. Augusta, who lived for news and gossip, hated that they only talked vaguely about work detail.

Whilst at the table, his mother had thankfully taken off the hideous, hovering vulture she usually vulture atop her head. Tonight was spaghetti and meatballs night, Dewey's favorite, and this came around every few weeks. Dewey ate his spaghetti with a spoon and fork, twirling it effortlessly. For the past twenty minutes, he'd been trying to show Alice the trick, and she was making a toddler's mess off the whole experience. They giggled like schoolgirls at the end of the table.

"It goes in your mouth," said Frank, handing her fistful of napkins when Alice dropped a bite into her lap. Simply to piss her off, he did the old Italian's trick with a quicks hand and kept ahold of his fork and spoon.

"Was that important to you?" Dewey ignored Frank and turned to Alice.

"Not really, Dewey, no," said Alice. A lot seemed not to matter whenever she was with Dewey. Frustrated when she didn't get the trick, Alice shoveled food into her mouth with a fork and trudged through spaghetti the old-fashioned way.  
Alice liked learning new tricks, but she liked stuffing her face even better, and it always won out over curiosity.

"You're not a child, Alice," said Augusta disapprovingly. "I don't know why you bother skipping meals. Are they working you that hard?"  
"They really are, Mummy," said Frank, telling her about the mandatory sixty-hour work week. Alice stayed at her desk, but it was still grueling work. Whenever an officer got buried in a mountain of cases, food and life got shoved aside. "I'm keeping an eye on her, Mummy, don't worry."

"Neither of you know what you're doing," grumbled Augusta.

"Did you?" Alice turned towards her, instantly irritable. Augusta used to do light work as a court reporter, but she'd never really had to work because Dewey came from a wealthy family and worked like a house-elf.

"Alice," said Frank, frowning. Did they really have to ruin a nice meal?

"No, Frank. If you want to know, Augusta, I'd like to take leave. I'm tired and hungry all the time. But you can't just walk away from the Ministry because they are drowning. We are drowning," said Alice. She stopped and closed her eyes, counting to herself. This was actually a sore subject between her and Frank. He pushed her to the brink these last days, and she took their toll. Dewey muttered the papers read like the Ministry for Magic didn't know what they were doing. Frank had no idea if she was actually listening. Alice, tired as Augusta revved up her engine, put an abrupt end to the debate. "Yeah, well, we don't."

"Rita Skeeter. She's a new writer on staff who tells it like it is," said Augusta.

Frank took this as strike two. Given the rate Alice was going lately, he seriously doubted whether there would be a third one. Alice thought Rita Skeeter got picked to please the simpleton housewives who lived off their husbands and followed zero goals in their sad, sorry lives. They posed as baby makers trapped in their blissful ignorance and headed on a never-ending road to nowhere.

To Alice, there were varying degrees of housewives; she herself was one of these. There were also those housewives who contributed to society and thus made something of themselves and their children. Alice got sandwiched somewhere between the workaholics snd the feminists, although she'd never play the hardcore feminist card. Unless this thing stayed facedown on the table.

It sometimes surprised Frank how Augusta and Alice got along this evening. Half the time, they discreetly hated each other and agreed to disagree. Frank secretly suspected, though he did not know, that Dewey insisted on these dinners for some entertainment during suppertime. These used to be held on the same evenings. Wednesdays. With their demanding schedules, this simply wasn't possible anymore.

"Miss Skeeter spins whatever story Miss Skeeter wishes to hear," said Alice, filled with mirthless laughter.

Alice wanted for Augusta to say her piece. Frank, hoping this would not lead to an argument, for they would be stuck here forever and a day if this were the case, made a show of checking the time on his wristwatch and insisted they needed to leave because they were late getting somewhere. He stayed vague on where because it left it open-ended. Dewey never wanted them to leave empty-handed. He packed leftovers and dessert in large carryout containers and walked them to the door.

"Oh, Dewey. We've news, and if you know this already, I will be severely disappointed," said Alice, pouting a little to get a smile out of him. Getting a smile out of Dewey Longbottom never presented itself as much of a challenge. She handed the food over to Frank. "We found this out accidentally."

Frank didn't really see if as accidental. Dewey waited, beaming like a schoolboy.

"It's a grandson," said Frank and Alice together.

Dewey's grin spread from ear to ear. He hugged both of them and kissed Alice on the cheek. "You are my favorite daughter-in-law."

Technically, she was his only daughter-in-law, yet Alice took whatever she could get. Since Frank only planned on tying the knot once, she held a pretty secure position. When they got to the Apparition point, Frank placed his hand on her back before they disappeared. When Dewey had suggested that Dewey wasn't a bad name for a boy, Alice pretended to consider it for his sake. Alice lived for making Dewey's day. When they appeared on a street on the outskirts of London, Alice opened the dessert carryout container and herself to a chocolate chip biscuit. She offered Frank one.

He nibbled on one and handed it back to her. "Dewey made those. How's that diet going, Alice?"

"Who turns down free food?" Alice, feeling guilty, put two of these back. Dewey was an exceptional home cook and an ever better baker. If Dewey were a housewife, and he couldn't be given he had the wrong anatomy, Alice would follow this "housewife" to the ends of the earth.

As they walked down a narrow Muggle street with dilapidated houses, Frank felt guilty about ditching out on the parents. He didn't feel so bad about she mother. On some days, especially when she pushed his buttons a little too hard, Augusta became manageable in small doses. After a few hours, a given she enjoyed angering Alice for no reason, it was time to leave. Frank loved his mother. Fiercely protective of the family, Augusta held her own. Alice might very well be overreacting and a touch sensitive these days, yet he forgave her.

He needed to stay on Alice's good side. He chose her.

As it started raining, a sudden downpour, the strong scent filled his nostrils. Petrol. He'd never driven a car or another Muggle contraption that used the stuff, yet it registered in his brain. There were times, especially whilst in the field, where Frank coursed with this secondary sense; it was like he viewed the world from the outside looking in. He knew, Frank just knew what was going to happen next.

"Stay here. Do not move." Frank's lips barely moved. He slowed his pace and shoved Alice back.

Alice sounded annoyed. She'd been told what to do too often, thanks very much. "I am standing right here."

Next moment, Frank hit the deck. He forced Alice down onto the pavement as two cars skidded and collided feet away from them. She screamed, covering her head, and Frank, shaken and suddenly wide awake, running on pure adrenaline, he asked if she was all right. He could hear his mother's voice in the back of his mind telling him, "These are Muggles, Frank, continue on your way, and take your wife home." Dewey always ran towards the problem.

So did Frank.

"Are you all right?" he asked Alice again, jarring her from her shocked state.

She nodded. Taking this as good enough, Frank approached the cars. A big bellied fair haired man had climbed out of the blue car. Except for the cut on his forehead, he appeared to be all right. He could not walk in a straight line, Frank noticed, and his speech slurred. Frank's first guess, of course, was the man was intoxicated and he should not have been on the road late at night.

"Why're you dressed like that?" asked the man, checking out Frank's robes. Frank caught the man as his body went limp. Half his face appeared to be paralyzed. "Stroke."

"What?" Frank, still angered by the man's apparent lack of judgment, hardly listened to him. Why was he babbling on about swimming in the rain? Maybe Frank's mother was right. Some Muggles needed to be left to their own problems, and he did not need to save everyone. After holding the man's body in his arms, Frank half-dragged him over to Alice. "There are people in the other car! I'll be right back."

"Wait. Frank." Alice checked the man's pulse and draped her traveling cloak over his body. She got on all fours and moved over to the victim like an overweight cat.

There was no time. Hoping against hope some Muggle in one of these houses had thought to call medical services, or indeed that any of them had seen anything at all, Frank dashed back. She said something he did not catch, but he didn't have time to argue logistics with her. Alice would've wanted to help, too. She slowed him down.

Frank walked over and tapped the driver side window. The large woman sitting in the driver seat wore an unattractive lime green jumper; Frank was reminded of Dewey's work uniform. She took short, panicked breaths. Frank, paling control of the situation, cracked his neck.

"Can you hear me?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Good. Okay. What's your name?" Frank knew it was better to get his charges on the same level.

"Penny! She's in the back." She started panicking again. "My daughter."

"Okay. We'll get to her. I'll be right back." Frank changed tactics at the drop of a hat. If this was him, he'd be worried about her little daughter, too, so he placed the woman on the back burner. She said her name was Colleen; she said was okay. "Colleen that's my wife's middle name. Hey, Colleen?"

"Yeah?" she said shakily, scared out of her mind. He got her out first because the door was easy to open. He told her to go join Alice, but she shook her head.

"I'm going to grab Penny. Two minutes. You're okay."

Frank shifted to the back of the vehicle . Looking around desperately for a tool to crack the window, Frank started counting the seconds in the back of his mind. There was nothing. He spotted a small girl with thick curls in the back seat. Cursing under his breath, Frank told Penny to take off the safety belt and cover her head. He tried to punch through the thick glass pane; he failed. Taking out his wand and casting a simple spell, he shattered the rare glass window.

He lifted himself and half-crawled though the window. The scent of petrol got stronger, and the little girl wrinkled her nose. She backed away from him. Frank smelled something burning. Fire. He scooped her up and held her close to his body. After backing off a few paces, the car exploded. Panicked, Frank jumped back and ran in the opposite direction.

"FRANCIS!" Alice's panicky voice filled the silence. He heard voices, the people who lived on the streets, surround them. Minutes passed. "Francis!"  
"You're okay," he said, speaking to both himself and Penny.

He buried Penny's head in his chest. A wall of flames licked the pavement, but Frank got to his feet and took a break in the road before the fire caught everything. He heard sirens nearby, and he ran like hell. As he crossed the other side, he spotted Alice on her knees, her hands in her hair. Frank kissed Penny, who said her name was Penny Clearwater, on the cheek and handed the girl off to her mother.

"Thank you, thank you," said Colleen.

"Of course." Frank patted Penny's curly locks. "She's very brave."

Colleen nodded, holding onto her daughter for dear life. When Frank got to Alice and helped her to her feet, she punched him squarely in the jaw. She took another shot. When Frank backed off, surprised, and she locked him a tight embrace. As ambulances, a fire truck, and police cruisers flooded into the scene, they walked away.

"What the hell would possess you to do that?" demanded Alice, tears still streaking down her face. "You fear fire. Yet you walked towards it … and I thought … you walked into a trap like some Muggle."

"I had my wand," he said fairly.

"You are reckless," said Alice.

She turned on her heel when they had gone a safe distance. Whilst things died down, Frank refused to be interviewed by the sergeant. He learned a stroke was a medical condition; someone mentioned it in the crowd. People lost interest and the crowd retreated scattered and people resumed their mundane evening. When someone insisted Frank suffered from smoke inhalation, he got talked into taking puffs off an oxygen mask.

The first ambulance took off with the stroke victim.

"Does this work?" Genuinely interested, he asked a paramedic. The second ambulance had proven unnecessary because the accident wasn't as bad as initially reported.

"Breathe in the gas, fool," said Alice, leaning against the rig.

Colleen halted an efficient operation. Before she'd agreed to leave with Penny and be carted off to hospital, she had insisted ton seeing Frank. It took a while to actually get what she wanted. Someone had patched up the gash on her forehead. When she spotted Alice edging away like a bent old lady, she rushed over to her. They had stood by each other earlier.

"Remember when I told you I had three kids? I know stuff," said Colleen. Penny clung to her hand and waved at Frank. Smiling, inhaling deeply in between coughs, he waved back. "Who are you people?"

"Maggie Todd," said Alice, placing her hand on her lower back. "He's Zeek."

Colleen, confused, did a double take. When Alice turned, Colleen pieced this together. "You called him Francis." Alice sighed, frustrated, and Colleen steadied her. Alice closed her eyes, and Frank recognized the signs, for she'd been doing a lot the last few days. After the paramedic offered them a ride to the nearest hospital and Colleen declined any medical treatment, the paramedic started to pack up.

"Wait. She needs a ride." Colleen clapped a hand on Alice's shoulder.

"Alice," said Frank, setting the oxygen apparatus aside and getting to his feet.

"Shut up, Frank," Alice cut him off, giving herself away again without realizing right away. When he actually smiled at her, she turned towards the paramedic. Even as she tried to turn him down, she started crying, so they got her in the transport vehicle. One of the police officer said they had Colleen. As the transport vehicle started to speed away, she stopped them. "Wait. The girl."

"Ma'am," said the paramedic. He examined her and stupidly told her he'd never done this before, but he assured her paramedics did this all the time . "When did your contractions start?"

"Oh, nine hundred," said Alice, not thinking this made no sense to most of the world.

"Nine o'clock in the morning," said the paramedic, nodding and saying his father was in the Army. "Wait. You've waited twelve hours."

"All right, the way you're talking right now? Are you kidding me?" Alice sounded scared, yet she kept it together. He apologized. "She cried out in pain.

"Alice, relax," said Frank.

"You relax. The girl. Where's the little girl? Ouch." Alice grabbed Frank's hand and cut off his circulation. As it had started to rain harder and the paramedic insisted they really needed to go, she shouted at him. "You shut up and listen to me. I said no! Where's the girl?"

"I'll get her," said Frank.

The cruiser had already left the scene, and he was willing to bet Penny sat beside her mother. He jumped out of the rig and ignored Alice's screams. Even though he'd tell them to move on, he knew Alice would force them to stay until she saw Penny. How exactly was he supposed to find her in the dark?

"Penelope. Penny? Penny!" Frank shouted into the night.

Frank, frantic and unfocused, backtracked and retraced his steps. If the poor girl really was at the precinct or the hospital or whatever, he was going to hate himself. When he got no answer, he started to get annoyed with Alice. He was stupid for saving the lives of a little girl and her mother, but Alice got to waste time on a scavenger hunt?

"Where the hell are you?" Frank, annoyed at this point, started to get annoyed with the little girl. He had stopped on his way home to save a little girl who he would never see again. Neville himself would never cross paths with her. In her wildest dreams, the last thing Alice probably thought of was giving birth on the side of the road in a summer downpour. "Penny?"

Frank turned around when someone tucked on his sleeve. He could barely see her face, but he stared at her red shoes. "I was looking for you."

"I know." Penny let him scoop her up. "How'd you open the window?"

"What window?" He guessed this girl fancied a chat. He shifted her in his arms and brushed her damp brown hair out of her eyes.

"The car window," she said. She turned her her towards the sound of Alice's screams. "She's hurt bad."

"She's fine." Frank hoped Penny would have forgotten the incident with the rear window, but she circled back to it. "I dunno. I found a rock or something."

"But it was the whole window. Not a hole." Penny wasn't going to let this go. When he offered to take her over to the ambulance, she shook her head. She didn't want to get back in a car. Frank couldn't blame her. "How'd you do it?"

"Penny, I really wanted to make sure you and your mummy were safe and sound," said Frank dismissively, feeding her the truth. What else was he supposed to do? He decided to walk around with her a bit and changed the subject. "You're a pretty astute little girl, you know. I'm having a little boy."

"Not a boy," she said defiantly. Frank bet she misunderstood him. He smiled and said he knew she wasn't a boy. "And it wasn't a rock."

"What do you think it was?" Frank wished he had an umbrella because he felt sure he was going to give this girl back to her mother with a summer cold.

"Magic," she said, her eyes getting big.

Frank tried to laugh this off. What did it matter? Who would believe her anyway? As they turned around, Frank took out his wand and conjured a plush unicorn toy. This thing had set next to the teddy bear in the cot in his nursery. Excited, Penny clapped her hands enthusiastically and hugged the stuffed plush to death.

Frank stowed away his wand and told her this was a secret. Penny nodded. When they returned to the ambulance, Alice wasn't screaming anymore. She held a small bundle in her arms and spoke softly to the ashen-faced paramedic. The of the rig had come around and coached him though the procedure.

Frank had imagined his wife struck fear into the hearts of a lot of people. She went off the boom handle a lot, especially whenever she felt scared or backed into a corner. Alice liked being in control. Frank was willing to bet the moment the novice paramedic had offered Alice her boy, she forgave him every wrongdoing. Even from this distance, Frank could tell she was in love.

"Is he a magician?" Penny asked as they got closer. She pointed at Neville.

Frank smiled. As he scooped her up and placed her in the back of the ambulance, Frank was careful to check her for injures. There were probably others who had bothered with this step, too, yet he suddenly felt rather fond of Penelope Clearwater. Frank jumped in the rig after the driver headed up front. The lights flashed and the doors got locked.

Frank stopped Penny before she got the chance to ask again. He touched his finger to the tip of her nose. "Nope. He's not. Neville's a wizard."


End file.
